


Different

by EternalFire185



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Fluff and stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalFire185/pseuds/EternalFire185
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was important. Maybe she wasn't quite sure why, exactly. But it was. (A series of very short entries)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Different

It was different, she realized, than it had been with Archie. She had loved to listen to him talk, true, but the movement of his lips, soft and welcoming, had been the focus of her attention. He had been something to admire. Something to yearn for. There was something different about Finn. They were talking. Really talking, every word that he said burned into her with their importance. He was talking to her, not at her, or about her, or near her. He was showing her who he was, and the words were writing themselves into her brain like the afterimage of a bright light, staining her vision of him, making him all the more beautiful. And yeah, the desire to reach out across the few inches that separated them and touch his face burned in her gut till she was clenching her hands under her blankets in a sweaty attempt to hold everything together, but she managed it. This was important. Maybe she wasn’t quite sure why, exactly. But it was.


	2. Talking

The writing was a decision he hadn't been planning on making, if he was being honest. In fact, he might have been attempting to avoid touching Rae at all when his fingers had started tracing out his thoughts like they knew what was better for him than he did. Maybe the bloody things were right. He had never been all that good at words, but he had always been good at speaking with his eyes, and girls had said that he’d been good at speaking with his hands and lips and tongue too. The thought occurred to him every time he spoke onto her skin, and it sent a hot wave of embarrassment sliding down his face and ears and neck. But there was something in the look in her eyes when he talked to her without talking that made his fingers itch to touch her again.


	3. Stare

Sometimes she catches herself staring at the dusting of freckles that disappears down the collar of his flannel, constellations that are scattered across his skin. She wants to trace the invisible lines between them with her tongue. She wants to run her fingers down the curve of muscle along his spine. She wants to tangle her hands in his hair and kiss the lopsided grin off his stupid face. She wants to feel his hot breath on her neck, the subtle shaking of his shoulders when he’s losing control, the gentle murmur of his skin on hers. Mostly, she wants him. He usually notices her, a smile in his brown eyes, a crooked one on his face. His fingers always ask the question: What are you thinking about? The answer is always the same: You.


	4. Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a warning: some stronger language in this one

There wasn’t what you would call a moment of doubt, precisely. There was an ocean of moments, and the breaking waves were crested with mermaid Chloes in their skimpy seashell bras singing about how sometimes guys had “problems” when they didn’t like what they saw. That they couldn’t help it if they didn’t like big girls. Wanting to be with Finn was like an ache that she felt in her bones when she looked at him, but there were always a chorus of voices that whispered that he could never feel the same way about her. There’s a difference between liking someone, and wanting to sex them into oblivion. A significant difference. But sometimes there were moments of clarity, when Finn’s mouth hovered above hers, his breath on her face, and his hands shaking where they rested on her arms. Those moments, the mermaid Chloes could go fuck themselves.


	5. Warm

The sunlight filtered through the blinds, dust motes drifting gently through the beams and disappearing into the darkness. Finn’s arm was slung over her abdomen, his face scrunched against the pillow and his lips slightly parted in sleep. The dusting of freckles across his nose led down his cheeks, pulling her gaze down to the planes of his shoulders, the tenderness of the back of his neck. The heat of his hand was like a furnace, seeping into her skin beneath. But the warm went deeper than that. Warm like lounging in the sun, drinking a cold beer. Warm like laughing until your stomach ached. Her lips tingled with the thought of kissing him, and she disentangled one arm. Like in a dream, she brought her fingers to her lips, and then pressed the kiss to his forehead, his nose, his lips. Despite her gentle touch, he came awake, eyes drifting open, crinkled with the smile already on his lips.  
“‘Ello beautiful.” He said. You’re the beautiful one, she thought, but she simply smiled, pulling his face closer with a cupped palm. She kissed him with a silent prayer. You are mine, and I am yours, repeated in every kiss, till she hoped he could taste it on her lips. You are mine, and I am yours.


End file.
